“Not long after I got home, I received a phone call from one of your sister’s friends.”
Taylor closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t need to hear any more. “We’ll be right home.”
Considering the type of people her sister had hung around with before going back to prison, she could only imagine the conversation her mom had moments ago. She shoved her cell phone back into her pocket. “Reese, Mimi needs to talk to me. Please go get your things.”
“But Curt wants to talk to me, remember.”
“I know, but he’ll have to do it later. Go get your stuff so that we can go home.”
Remarkably without any more questions, Reese left the room.
“What’s wrong?” Standing, Curt came around the table.
“Mom got a phone call from one of Eliza’s friends.”
Although she’d suggested they get rid of the landline, Mom insisted on keeping it and the phone number she’d had for over thirty years. According to her, you never knew when you might need it.
“One of your sister’s friends called Priscilla. What the hell did they want?” A combination of disbelief and anger filled his voice.
Taylor shared the same emotions as Curt. “Mom didn’t go into details. She only asked me to come home and said it might be a good idea if you come over too.”
“Of course. Let’s go.”
Three
The wedding might be a few weeks away, but Curt already considered Taylor, Reese, and Priscilla a part of his family, and he’d do anything for them. And at the moment, he wanted to track down whoever had called Taylor’s mom and make sure they knew never to do it again.
Priscilla never mentioned her eldest daughter. Still, he knew the life choices Eliza had made and her current incarceration weighed heavily on his future mother-in-law. And he didn’t blame her. Regardless of the things Eliza had done, she was still Priscilla’s daughter. It couldn’t be easy to see someone you love make such terrible decisions. The last thing Taylor’s mom needed was one of Eliza’s friends calling her.
They found Priscilla seated in the kitchen frowning and drumming her fingers on the table with what looked like an untouched cup of tea. When she spotted Reese, though, she forced a smile and pushed back her chair.
“Hey, sweetie. How was your day?” Priscilla asked, hugging her granddaughter.
“School was boring, but Coach Bruno might let me play goalie first on Saturday. And Curt wanted to talk to me about something that Aunt Taylor said would make me happy, but we came home before he could.”
“That’s my fault. I’m sorry. I needed to see Aunt Taylor and Curt. But I’m sure Curt will have that conversation with you soon.”
“Reese, go on up and get ready for bed and read. I’ll be up to tuck you in later,” Taylor said.
Reese retrieved her book from her backpack and hugged first Taylor, then him. “Will you come up and say good night before you leave?”
As if she needed to ask. “Of course.”
Happy with his answer, she zipped out of the kitchen.
“Okay, Mom. What’s going on?” Taylor asked as they both sat down at the table.
“About five minutes after I walked in the door, the house phone rang. I almost didn’t answer it.” Priscilla reached for her tea but then clasped her hands together again. “For some reason, I did. The man introduced himself as Jordan King, and he said he was a friend of Eliza.”
Under the table, Taylor’s leg rubbed against his as she bounced her foot on the floor. He shared her impatience. At the moment, he cared more about what the caller wanted than what their name was or the moments leading up to the call.
“He claimed he got a letter recently from Eliza. In it, she told him he might be Reese’s father. She included our phone number so he could contact us.”
Taylor pushed back her chair with so much force it almost tipped over and stalked across the kitchen. When she reached the counter, she turned and raked her hand through her hair. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“When did anything your sister does make sense?” Priscilla asked, stealing the words right out of his thoughts. “The fact that she was sleeping around so much she didn’t know who Reese’s father was in the first place is a perfect example of her poor decision making.”
He’d never heard the older woman sound so bitter.